The Love Song of Heero Yuy
by Luchia13
Summary: Sequel to House With A Black Door. Heero goes back to Duo after (basically) being an idiot for a year. How sweet! Umm...poem-fic? 1x2, 3x4


A/N: It was bound to happen. Yes, the two-shot has now miraculously appeared. Since I can't do songfics (as we all know), I've done a (ready?) POEM fic! Yes, that's right, the angst of Heero Yuy will now be accompanied by The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, by the super-cool T.S. Eliot. I already know I'm an English nerd, by the way, so no need to point that out...

THIS IS A CONTINUATION OF _HOUSE WITH A BLACK DOOR_! READ THAT FIRST!

BTW: Iria is a test tube baby. I decided Quatre & Trowa would want actual children, and Quatre's gotta be used to the process anyway, so...(shrug). Besides, he could push Tro into anything, anyway.

Warnings: Profanity. See Duo's letter for any others there might be. Angst all over.

Disclaimer: I don't own the boys, or the poem (see above note for info about it.) ONTO THE STORY!!! This is long, 'cuz the poem's long, downsized or no. I used about 1/5 of it, by the way.

x---x

House With a Black Door

(Part 2: The Love Song of Heero Yuy)

x---x

_Let us go then, you and I, _

_When the evening is spread out against the sky_

_Like a patient etherized upon a table; _

It started a year ago.

Heero watched out the window silently, the familiar celestial bodies rolling across the shuttle's window. He felt cold, now, watching the oblivion of space slide across his sight. Far too long, he'd let others pilot the shuttle. Ever since the war.

He frowned, and amended his thought. Ever since Duo.

Duo Maxwell. Just thinking the name sent his brain into dreamy recollection, of violet eyes and a waterfall of brown, shining in the sunlight.

Was that the reason he'd packed up and sold his apartment in Tokyo? Was the simple ache of a lonely heart really driving him to the stars again?

He let the thoughts fade, his mind drifting back one year.

To the day it started.

_Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,_

_The muttering retreats _

_Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels_

_And sawdust restaurants with oyster shells:_

They'd kept it a secret for three months.

"Hee-chaaan," Duo whined, grabbing Heero's arm and pulling him back into the tousled hotel bed. "It's cold when you're not in here." Duo kissed him, smiling as he toyed with his lover's lower lip. Heero smirked.

"Then you can get out too," he said, and got out of the white sheets again. Duo pouted, and Heero repressed the urge to pounce on him. Again. "We're meeting Relena in twenty minutes." Duo frowned, but nodded and hopped out of the bed.

"I don't get it. Why the hell would someone put a pacifist in charge of the Preventers," Duo grumbled. It was a familiar argument, and Heero shrugged.

"Good PR," he said flatly. "She does know what she's doing." Duo laughed.

"Yeah, if you're into that kind of patrolling, no-gun thing," he said, already starting the shower. Heero frowned. Duo took showers for cleanliness, but also comfort.

Streets that follow like a tedious argument 

_Of insidious intent_

He shook his head, staring out the shuttle's window again. That had been the morning before they'd separated. He should have noticed Duo's grudge earlier. He shouldn't have been a fool and chosen duty over love.

Relena had asked him to be her bodyguard. Since Heero had been doing it for three years already, he'd agreed with a nod, completely ignoring the burning agony of Duo.

Duo thought he'd rejected him. The angel had thought Heero loved Relena.

Heero shook his head at the thought, once more tightening his grip on the worn letter in his hand. There had only been one person for him, and there would only be one person for him. Duo Maxwell was his soul, whether the idiot liked it or not.

To lead you to an overwhelming question... 

_Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"_

_Let us go and make our visit._

Did he love Duo?

More than he could begin to express. Why else would he be on the stupid shuttle? Why else could he have been such a love-struck fool during the constant battles, the constant tense silences that echoed in their souls? He ran a hand through his hair. He may not have known it, but Heero Yuy had always protected Duo, subconsciously or not.

The soldier in him grudgingly ran through injuries obtained either from the Deathscythe pilot, or from protecting him.

Two gunshot wounds, coma, broken bones, several concussions...and one gaping hole in his heart. Heero grimaced. The bane of his existence was that one mistake. Duo had always been his life, and he'd just tossed it away to take up the mantle of silent protector for an empty-headed politician.

In the room the women come and go 

_Talking of Michelangelo._

"I'd like you to be my bodyguard," Relena said coolly, her hair slightly pulled back to make her seem older than their mutual seventeen. Duo was silent. "Death threats have been increasing since I took charge of the Preventers after Une retired. You are a valuable asset to the Preventers, Heero, but I believe your place is with me." And still, the violet-eyed boy was eerily quiet.

Heero nodded, and Duo walked out the door.

"Now, there will be some things to do..." Heero tuned her out, watching the rain plummet onto the manicured lawns of the hollow princess' keep.

_The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,_

_The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes_

_Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,_

_Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,_

_Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,_

_Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, _

_And seeing that it was a soft October night,_

_Curled once around the house, and fell asleep._

L2 had never been a wealthy colony. After the last war, Winner Enterprises and the Preventers had started a program to refurbish the artificial worlds. However, as these things go, it only made matters worse. The money went to the already wealthy, and the poor just got poorer.

The near-nonexistent middle class was on an area known as The Rim. About the size of a small town, it was a block of suburban homes and false parks. Just like everything else on the colony, it had a good side, and a bad side.

Heero didn't even have to look at the letter's address. Duo had always liked things to be a bit darker.

And indeed there will be time 

_For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,_

_Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;_

The shuttle landed harshly, jolting the unwary passengers. Most jumped a bit, or were jostled a decent amount. Heero just tensed, then untensed, letting the controlled collision ride down his spine.

Guilt- something he was by no means accustomed to- followed him like a piece of toilet paper stuck to his shoes. With a shake of his head, Heero stood, grabbing his laptop, and walked out the shuttle's barely open door, the pilots and stewardesses yelling at him to stop.

Heero stormed through the spaceport, nearly missing the two teenage boys and a baby screaming his name frantically.

There will be time, there will be time 

_To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;_

"HEERO! OVER HERE," Quatre screamed, and finally in an act of desperation, yelled again. "01! STATUS!" The brunette stopped in his tracks, twisting to see Quatre Winner and Trowa Barton grinning at him, a small baby in a stroller. They wheeled over to him, both glowing like the proud parents they were.

"Heero Yuy, meet Iria Barton-Winner," Quatre beamed, picking the girl out of the baby blue stroller. Heero couldn't help but smile a bit; not only did Iria have a tiny tuft of blonde hair on the top of her head and adorably shining emerald eyes, but seemed to be cooing at him. As Heero leaned down to examine the little being closer, the girl squealed and pulled his head down via a harsh tug on his hair. The parents chuckled. "She's pretty strong for a baby, huh?" Heero smirked.

"I thought you were in Tokyo," Trowa said, extricating his friend from his daughter's grasp. Heero shrugged; it was one of the many things he'd picked up from Duo.

"I was," he said. "I thought you were on earth." Quatre grinned.

"We came to ask Duo to be Iria's uncle. You were our next stop, since we figured Duo would know where you were," the blonde said, suddenly coddling Iria. "So? Want to be an uncle?" Heero blinked.

"You're eighteen, and have a baby," he stated. The couple looked at each other, and shrugged.

"We were sixteen and married," Trowa pointed out. Heero smirked.

"Uncle Heero sounds weird," Quatre said, and started cooing at his daughter. "But oh, it's so cute at the same time! What do you think, Iria? Want Uncle Heero to hold you?" Iria began laughing and practically gurgling from the drool gathering in her mouth. Heero looked at the baby warily.

"I'd end up killing her," Heero stated. "And I need to keep my shirt clean." Trowa nodded.

"We'll let you get going...Uncle Heero," he said, barely restraining a small smile. Quatre was busy being enchanted with his daughter. "Duo's had a bad day." The couple walked the other way, and Heero gave his head a mental shake. He had no idea how Trowa did that.

_There will be time to murder and create,_

_And time for all the works and days of hands_

_That lift and drop a question on your plate;_

The cab pulled up to the cul-de-sac with a squeaky break, and Heero almost winced at the crash from inside the telltale blood red house. He smirked at the site of a black door in a montage of pastels and – perish the thought- pink. Grabbing his suitcase and forking over the toll, Heero stood, approaching the house.

There was another crash, and Heero did wince from the familiar voice that echoed out the slit window on the second floor.

"DAMN IT! Get OUT, Hell," Duo roared, and another very-breakable item smashed against the wall. Heero, smirking, realized the baka probably did buy a cat.

"Hn," he exhaled, and to his utter shock, the door was wrenched open. Violet eyes blinked at him once, and a body was flung at him. His laptop fell discarded onto the meager porch as he fell to the cement, wrapping his arms around the idiot who'd catapulted himself at the Japanese ex-terrorist.

"HEERO! OH GOD," Duo yelled, and proceeded to kiss Heero's head into the floor. "I didn't think you'd come! I missed you so much! I bought a cat! I have a house! I LOOVE YOOOOUUUU!!" Heero finally got Duo to shut up by kissing him senselessly, hands tangling in the long auburn braid he'd missed so much.

Before Heero could open his eyes, he realized Duo had carried him into the house.

And he was _not_ about to object.

_Time for you and time for me, _

_And time yet for a hundred indecisions, _

_And for a hundred visions and revisions, _

_Before the taking of a toast and tea._

The next morning, Duo woke up to Heero lazily twisting his long, unbound hair. For a few minutes, he just lay there, floating on a big blue cushion of Heero love. Finally, he couldn't help it, and grinned.

"Mmmmm...Hee-chan..." Duo curled up closer to his lover. "I think I broke your laptop." Heero smirked.

"That's okay. Want to get married?"

"Okay. Wanna make breakfast?"

"Okay."

Of course, neither moved. It was far too warm and cozy in bed anyway, and they had all the time in the world.

One year later, a green fence graced the Maxwell-Yuy household, since they had to fence in their son Odin, affectionately called the Imp.

x---x

A/N: AWWWW! I feel all warm and gushy inside now. That was so sweet. I didn't mean to make that sweet. If you read the real poem, the poor guy just up and leaves without even trying to talk to his gal. Poor slightly bald fellow... And the hyphenated names? I just decided they'd be alphabetical, since it seems to me they wouldn't really care anyway.

Thanks to all who reviewed HWABD! You people are ever so special, and I hope you like the end. I'm almost tempted to write about Odin the Imp (who is ALSO a test-tube baby. I just don't do mpreg). He's just too cute, even though I gave him ooo...ten seconds of life?

Thanks for reading! PLEASE review! Maybe it'll turn into a three-shot...? Hmmm...


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